


Impressing Sarek

by xxpanda92xx



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpanda92xx/pseuds/xxpanda92xx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock's father never approved of his decision to stay aboard the Enterprise, and Kirk is determined to show him just how wrong he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impressing Sarek

Had he been given to human displays of emotion, Spock would have sighed. His father would be travelling aboard the Enterprise, this time with many other ambassadors from other locations, to discuss and vote on the membership of another planet who sought the protection of the Federation. Though he and his father had grown marginally closer after the destruction of Vulcan, there were still years of distance between them in desperate need of repair. It would be something of a strain to be in close proximity to the man who had so long resented his choice to attend Starfleet instead of the Vulcan Science Academy.

The Captain, who had given Spock the information pertaining to the Ambassador’s pending arrival, looked at him closely over the chessboard between them. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you looking forward to seeing your old man again?”

He resisted the urge to correct the Captain, to remind him that, as a Vulcan, he felt no emotions, for he knew the man would ignore his protests. Instead, he replied, “My father never approved of my decision to join Starfleet. My decision was a rare, emotional one, and he always deemed it foolish and rash. I had thought that, perhaps, my assistance in saving him and the others I did would have altered his pattern of thinking, but it appears that my decision to stay on as your First Officer instead of working to restore our culture on New Vulcan prevented that.”

“What does he have against Starfleet?”

“Nothing. He simply feels it is unworthy of my time and talents, believing that I could be more useful elsewhere.”

The Captain frowned. “But you’re part of the reason we’ve done as well as we have. You’re absolutely crucial to the Enterprise, plus Starfleet itself. How is that unworthy of your time?”

Spock raised an eyebrow, grateful for his years of emotional control that enabled him to control the blush forming as a result of the compliments he received. “He believes I am doing a job another is capable of performing, and so should use my gifts more constructively.”

“Is that so?” said the Captain thoughtfully.

A gleam appeared in the Captain’s eyes. Spock knew this look. The look preceded countless crazy schemes, into which he was often dragged that, while effective, were risky and illogical. “Captain, what are you planning?”

“Who, me?” the blonde man asked innocently. “I’m not planning anything!”

They attempted to return to their game, but the Captain’s mind was on his plan, and Spock was trying in vain to anticipate said plan so he could prevent it from coming to fruition, or, at the very least, debate it heavily. They decided to call it a night shortly thereafter. All Spock could think about that night was what was to come the next day.

\- - - - - - -

“Welcome aboard, Ambassador,” the Captain said cheerily. “It’s good to see you again.”

“I do not understand the sentiment,” Ambassador Sarek replied, “unless my son has lost control again and violently attacked you.”

Spock tried to ignore the sting that accompanied his father’s words. By Vulcan standards, Sarek had practically sneered over the word “again”, showing what he thought of his son’s occasional emotion outburst. 

The Captain, however, just laughed. “Nope, Spock has been the best First Officer a captain could ask for. We might have died a hundred times over by now without him.”

“Indeed,” said Sarek, obviously unimpressed. “I see you possess the gift of hyperbole that is so common amongst your race. I am surprised Spock chooses to remain amongst such illogical beings.”

Spock was shocked at his father’s rudeness, but the Captain did not seem to notice. “Actually, that wasn’t an exaggeration. Not really. There have been so many missions that have gone wrong, I’d think this ship was cursed if I believed in things like that. And Spock’s been a huge help almost every single time in getting us out of whatever mess we’re in.

“Anyways, I have to get back to sailing this ship around. Mr. Spock, I want you to stay with your father for the duration of his stay.” Spock felt betrayed. “Since everyone has rather heated opinions about this issue, I have assigned a security team to each ambassador and their aids. I’m hoping to prevent any fighting between the guests before we reach the conference. However, I think you’d be better suited to helping Ambassador Sarek navigate his way through and understand a ship full of illogical humans. You may not understand us, but at least you’re used to dealing with us. Since you’re my First Officer, however, I want you to keep your communicator on you at all time, and try to answer it where people won’t hear me telling you all the important ship secrets. I wanna be able to get ahold of you if anything goes wrong. Any questions?”

Spock shook his head. “Negative.” His Captain was so illogical and emotionally driven; why did he have to choose to be logical about this particular thing?

“Good. Meet me in four hours for lunch? And make sure you answer your communicator no matter what, ok?” With that, he walked away to the turbolift. 

“What would you like to spend this time doing, sir?” Spock asked, already feeling uncomfortable.

“I would be interested in examining the experiments into which you have invested your time.”

They walked silently to the science labs. As his father surveyed his work, Spock experienced a feeling of nervousness, the intensity of which equaled a transporter malfunction or other problem that endangered the Captain. “Your work is adequate,” the Ambassador told him eventually, “but-”

“Mr. Spock!” Sulu cried. Spock raised an eyebrow as he turned to face the young man, surprised to see him. “I have to get to the Bridge for my shift, but I wanted to say thanks for your help analyzing those plant samples. I made a hell of a lot more progress than I would have on my own.” With that, Sulu disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

His father showed no reaction to the intrusion, so Spock hid his confusion. He had helped Sulu many times before, so why this specific instance merited special acknowledgement was unclear. They lingered in the labs a while longer, his father questioning him concerning his work, until Spock’s communicator beeped. “Spock here,” he answered, distancing himself from the older Vulcan. 

“Hey Spock, act like this is some Ensign asking you an urgent but painfully stupid question,” he heard the Captain say. “Make sure you say it loud enough your dad can hear.”

“That should be obvious, Ca- Ensign,” said Spock, thoroughly confused.

“Great! Now say….”

Spock obeyed the orders his Captain gave, though they made little sense. “Ok, you can go now,” Kirk said at last. “See you in a couple hours. Say ‘Very well, you’re welcome, Ensign’. And tell your father it was a new Ensign you’re tutoring.”

Spock did as requested, finally starting to understand the plan. Kirk had apparently decided to show Sarek how vital Spock was to the ship. Though he doubted its success, he saw no reason to end the charade. The Captain was trying to help him, and it gave him a most illogically warm feeling in his side. He presumed it was due to an increase in heartbeat, but it made no sense for such a physiological reaction to occur. 

He and Sarek adjourned to his quarters, using the time before lunch to update one another on the status of their lives. Sarek had chosen another mate, on who seemed a logical replacement to his mother, who would help repopulate New Vulcan. His father spoke so dispassionately that Spock could tell he was hurting below all the levels of control, missing his wife. Wanting to comfort Sarek but unable to do so, Spock suggested they make their way to the mess hall.

On the way, they ran into Chekov. To put it more accurately, he more or less ran into them, careening down the hallway with shouts of, “Meezter Spock! Meezter Spock!”

“What do you need, Chekov?”

“My calculations for ze project I hawe been doing aren’t working! Can you look at zem please?” The young man was practically bouncing up and down with nervous energy.

Spock took the proffered PADD and looked at the formulas. He had no idea what “project” the boy was working on, but he saw many obvious flaws that were clearly intentional- 5+3 did not equal 22 in any universe, and there was no conceivable way for the boy genius to make such an egregious error. As Chekov babbled apologies to Sarek, Spock made several notes and corrections. He appreciated that the Captain’s scheme did not require many falsehoods of him- the corrections were real, even if their premise was not- because though he was not incapable of lying, he was uncomfortable with the act. That Kirk knew him well enough to consider this when making his plan gave Spock that irrational warmth again. 

When he handed Chekov back his PADD, the boy scampered away. “Ensign Chekov is the youngest man aboard,” Spock explained as they continued on their way. “Also one of the most intelligent. However, his youth, subsequent lack of confidence, and overabundance of enthusiasm to display his capabilities occasionally lead him to make an error, and he comes to me for correction.” It was not a lie; it merely implied that this was a far more frequent occurrence than it actually was. 

Kirk and Dr. McCoy were already eating. Spock and his father went to acquire food from the replicator, but an excited Scotty stopped him. “Mr. Spock, sir, look, try this!” Scotty entered something into the machine, and a bowl of plomeek soup appeared. “Ya hafta let me know how it tastes. I know nothing; from a replicator ever tastes quite like it’s supposed ta, but I have it my best shot.”

Spock obligingly took a sip from the bowl. “It is quite satisfactory.”

Scotty beamed. “It helped havin’ ya sit down and describe it ta me, instead of tryin’ to figure it out all on my own. There are a few other Vulcan recipes in there, so try ‘em and let me know if I need ta fix anything.”

Spock did as requested. Sarek chose plomeek soup, and they joined the Kirk and the doctor. “Did it work this time?” his Captain asked.

“Yes, it appears Mr. Scotty has discovered the secret to convincing the replicator to make plomeek soup. I have been describing the ingredients to him and helping him find the acceptable substitutes when it is something for which the machines are unprepared.”

“Aye,” said Scotty hovering to see which dishes had turned out well, “I couldn’t have done it with ya.”

Spock sampled all of the dishes before him. All but one were sufficiently close to the real thing, and Scotty took careful note of what changes were needed. As he left, Kirk commented, “Remind me to put a commendation on both your files, Mr. Spock.”

“What for?”

“There are a bunch of different people and races aboard this ship, and a lot of them are either vegetarians or bullied into eating like one by their CMO.”

“One salad a day is hardly vegetarian, infant,” the doctor muttered.

Kirk ignored him. “They’ll probably be grateful for a wider variety. Also, and please forgive how tasteless this sounds, Vulcan dishes have become considered a rare delicacy. Having even replicated ones could come in handy during diplomatic situations. And Scotty couldn’t have done it without you. He said so himself. So you will both receive commendations.”

“Thank you, Captain. It is kind of you to include me in the matter.”

“While you’re at it, give him one for aid in medical research as well,” the normally gruff McCoy commented. “Thanks to him, we’ve managed to adapt three vaccines that the Vulcan body is normally reactive to. We can distribute these to any Vulcan who wants them, and it’s especially good for those who stayed with Starfleet. Oh, and Spock, it looks like the process worked this time.”

“Process?” Sarek asked.

“When Vulcan was lost, so were all the medical centers and blood banks. Spock has been donating blood so we can try to replicate it. Doesn’t work like it’s supposed to ‘cuz of all the copper in your green blood. But it looks like we might have gotten lucky this time. If so, we can take the technology to y’all on New Vulcan, and you can use it in reestablishing yourselves.”

“I had not realized you were involved in so many parts of the ship,” Sarek told his son.

“Well, Spock here is good at everything,” said Kirk with a grin. The warmth came back even stronger, and Spock had to suppress a blush. “It would be _illogical_ to sequester him away to only a few departments, like the science labs, when he can be just as useful elsewhere.” Spock caught the direct challenge in Kirk’s words and tone. He was surprised the man was so vehement about defending him. His father remained silent, looking thoughtful.

When lunch ended, Sarek suggested they play a game of chess so he could see how Spock’s skill had altered. Sarek had been the one to teach him how to play in the first place; the game was a common form of relaxation amongst Vulcans due to its logical rules, as well as a popular means of socialization. They went to an empty rec room and began playing silently. To Spock’s surprise, his months of games with Kirk had actually increased his skill. He now planned his moves farther ahead, and he was willing to take illogical risks he would never before have considered. After the second victory against his father, Uhura interrupted him. “Excuse me, Mr. Spock. I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if you could translate this for me. My grasp of Vulcan is a bit shaky.”

Spock needed all of his emotional control not to raise an eyebrow and point out to Uhura that they had originally met because he was tutoring her in the language. He took the PADD and began writing out the translation of words they both knew she could read. _My dear Spock, I just thought you should know that every word our friends have said is sincere. After our game last night, I went to my room and told them my plan to make you look good for your dad. They all agreed and said they’d help, but I didn’t tell them what to say, so whatever they tell you is genuine. Anyways, sorry for leaving you alone with your dad all day. Hope it hasn’t been too awkward. It was the only way to get this to work. Hopefully it will be worth it. See you soon! Kirk out._

Spock forced the green from his cheeks. “Here you are, Lieutenant,” he said, handing it back.

“Thanks, Spock,” she replied, smiling brightly. “You’re the only one on board who can read Vulcan, so you’re gonna have to teach me sometime, ok?”

“If that is what you wish.”

“You’re the best! I don’t know what we’d do without you. I’ve got to get back to my post, so I’ll see you later, ok? Thanks again.”

They had time for one more chess match before it was time for his father and the other ambassadors to leave. Once again, Spock triumphed. “Well done,” Sarek said, “though I fail to understand your strategy.”

“I have learned many things aboard this vessel and among these people, and this is reflected in many areas, including my chess strategies.” How else could he say that he had made a close study of his illogical best friend for no other reason than the pleasure the other man gave him?

“Indeed.” There was no further conversation until they were in the shuttle bay where McCoy and Nurse Chapel were administering vaccines for a virus that was common on the planet where the conference was being held. Thankfully, it was one they had managed to create for Vulcans as well, thanks to Spock, and so Ambassador Sarek would not have to suffer the itching often resulting in Vulcans from it.

“There is one final thing I must address, my son. Following the death of T’Pring and your decision to return to Starfleet, T’Pau has seen it unfit to find you another. It is only logical that those who remain procreate and nurture their young so we may restore ourselves. Additionally, no one wished to see their bloodline sullied.” In this last sentence, Spock caught the regret in his father’s voice, and he knew it was said as a statement of fact, not an insult.

Nurse Chapel, who had approached them to administer the appropriate vaccination, appeared to have missed this, however. She stabbed the hypo into Sarek’s neck in a manner that reminded Spock greatly of how McCoy handled Kirk when he was being particularly obstinate. “Anyone should consider themselves lucky to have their bloodline sullied by him,” Spock heard her mutter. “Oh dear,” she said at her normal volume, her tone overly innocent, “I accidentally gave you the human vaccine. Here,” she said with another jab of hypo to his neck, “is the Vulcan one, courtesy of Mr. Spock help. And don’t worry, the itching should go away in about thirty minutes.”

Spock did not have to look at Kirk, who had joined them after saying his farewells to the other dignitaries, to recognize the suppressed laughter. “Forgive me if that came across as being impolite,” Sarek said to Spock. “However, you have made no apparent progress in this area, despite your other achievements, and I wanted you to be aware that no aid will come from New Vulcan when your…time comes.”

“I understand, Father. I-”

“He’ll be fine,” Kirk said, cutting him off and stepping closer. “We are still discussing it and taking things slowly, but right now, we plan on bonding.”

“This is illogical. Are you certain?” Sarek asked, looking doubtfully between the two.

Spock was grateful Kirk answered, because he was still trying to catch up and process what the Captain had said. “Maybe it’s illogical to you,” the blonde snarled, “but he’s my best friend, the most important person to me, and the reason I’m alive today. There’s no one I’d rather spend my life with. And though he hasn’t said it in so many words because God forbid a Vulcan actually have an emotion, I know he cares too.”

“Indeed I do, t’hy’la,” Spock answered softly. “Besides, I feel my least logical decisions have often been my wisest.”

Sarek looked at him closely, then nodded. “If that is what you desire, I do not disapprove. And, my son…I am…proud of you. You often failed to mention how truly important you to this ship and its people. I apologize and hope we can gradually restore the rifts in our relationship.”

Touched, Spock bowed slightly. “I thank you for your words, and I would find this outcome most satisfactory. Farewell, Father. Live long and prosper.” With that, Sarek left them, absently scratching his arms as the vaccine took effect.

\- - - - - - -

As soon as their shift was over, Spock and Kirk went to the Captain’s quarters. Kirk locked the door so they could not be disturbed. To the blonde’s surprise, Spock pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you, Jim,” he said quietly, making sure to use his friend’s first name as he so often requested. “Your efforts to impress my father apparently worked.”

Jim smiled and hugged him back. “Well, like I said, we all meant it. Especially Chapel, ‘cuz she wasn’t even in on the plan. We should bring her on away missions. She’d kill any alien monster that tried to eat you, and she’d complain a hell of a lot less than Bones.”

“Did you also mean what you said? About my importance to you?” Spock asked, pulling slightly away to look at Jim.

His Captain blushed. “Sorry about that. I didn’t like the tone he used. And, um, yeah, I meant it all. But don’t worry, it doesn’t have to change things. I can tell your dad in a month or so that it won’t work because I need someone who will show emotions or some bullshit like that, so you don’t have to feel tied to me or anything.”

Spock’s heart was a flutter and the warmth could not be ignored. “I would like to be tied to you, as you put it. The word I used…it has multiple meanings, one of which is lover. I would find it pleasurable for this to apply to our situation.”

Jim’s eyes shone with happiness. He pulled Spock into another hug, whispering, “T’hy’la.”

“How did you know about Vulcan bonding?” Spock asked, curious but not really caring as he gently rubbed Jim’s back.

“Having you as my First Officer, then friend, then crush made me realize I knew nothing about Vulcans, so I read up on what I could find. Which wasn’t much. There isn’t really anything available to the general public. So I hacked into a few databases and anything else I could find.” There was a weird rumbling in Spock’s chest, but after a minute, Jim realized what it was. “Are you laughing at me?”

Spock smiled, stretching muscles that were unused to their new position. “Merely amused. I am not surprised, though.”

“Well, I did hack the Kobayashi Maru, so you really shouldn’t be,” Jim added with a grin. “I did my research. I know about Pon Farr, I know about bonding, and I want to be with you for all of it.”

“Promise?” Spock asked, leaning his head down a little.

“Promise,” Jim confirmed, and they sealed the deal with a kiss.


End file.
